


Arguing makes a good beginning

by accidentallyonpurpose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - High School, Arguing, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallyonpurpose/pseuds/accidentallyonpurpose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based off the "we got kicked out of class for arguing and are now arguing in the hall" au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arguing makes a good beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comment at your leisure!

“Wrong.” The deep voice rang out from the back of the class. John stopped mid-sentence, turning in his seat to face the curly-haired boy lounging at the back of the classroom. Sherlock Holmes, the infamously annoying genius in the class.  
“Sorry?”  
“Oh, no need to apologize. It’s not the first time you’ve been wrong.”  
“What does that mean?” John turned fully towards the back of the classroom, eyebrows drawn down in a scowl.   
“It means last week, during your presentation on the structure of the cell, you had some… misinformation.”  
“And what, exactly, was that misinformation?”  
Their teacher, Mr. Smithson, took that moment to finally jump in.  
“That’s enough, boys. Sherlock, please leave John alone. Mr. Watson, please continue.”  
John shot a last glare over his shoulder before turning back towards the front. “As I was saying, the three types of neurons are sensory, intraneuron, and motor.”  
“You are wrong,” Sherlock called again from the back. John felt his lips tighten as his hand curled into an involuntary fist.  
“Please, enlighten me. Exactly what did I get wrong?”  
“It’s interneuron.”  
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s intraneuron.”  
“I can assure you, I am correct.”  
“Mr. Holmes, if I have to tell you one more time not to interrupt, I will ask you to leave the classroom,” Mr. Smithson cut in from his position behind his desk.   
“But am I wrong?” Sherlock asked, his brow arched.  
“No,” Mr. Smithson admitted. Sherlock looked smugly at John, crossing his arms over his chest.   
“Clearly you shouldn’t be letting just anyone answer questions in class,” Sherlock drawled, a taunting glint in his eye.  
“What, so we should let pompous arses answer all the questions instead?” John fired back.   
“That is enough!” Mr. Smithson barked. “Both of you, out. I will see you both tomorrow, and you will both be in a better mood.”   
“Seriously?” John cried, incredulous.   
“Yes. Now.”  
Huffing, John quickly scooped his textbooks off his desk and slammed his scribbler shut, shoving it all into his backpack. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he stalked out of the classroom, Sherlock hot on his heels.   
“I can’t believe you just got us kicked out of class,” John turned on Sherlock as soon as the door had slammed closed behind them.  
“I believe we got us kicked out of class. It was not all my doing.”  
“Bullocks.”   
“And there, you are wrong again.”  
“Because Sherlock Holmes is never wrong, is that it?”  
“I’m right a lot more than everyone else,” he rebutted.  
“God, how incredibly pretentious can one bloke be?” John asked, disbelieving.   
“Well, when one has a reason-“  
“Oh my god! What’s forty-two times seventy-three, Mr. Know-It-All?” John started wandering down the hall towards the eleventh-year lockers.  
“Three thousand sixty-six.” The smug smirk was back on Sherlock’s face as he trailed behind John.  
“What do Chlorine and Sodium produce?”  
“Table salt. Please, you insult me with these easy questions.”  
John glanced back at Sherlock, half amused and half annoyed. “Alright, what play did Shakespeare write in honour of his son?”  
“Hamlet.”  
“Name all eight planets.”  
Sherlock stopped strolling, staring at John. John walked a few more steps before realizing his companion had stopped walking.  
“Sherlock?” Sherlock remained motionless. A slow grin crept across John’s face. “You don’t know, do you?”  
“Of course I do,” Sherlock assured quickly. “There’s, um… Earth, of course, and Jupiter. Venus, Neptune. Mars. Um…”  
“Stumped?”  
Sherlock pursed his lips, fingers tapping quickly against his thigh.  
“It’s not like the planets are important anyway,” he retorted after another moment of thought. “I must have deleted the information.”  
“Deleted it? Like, from your brain?”  
“It’s a little more complicated than that, John. My brain, it’s like my hard drive, and I decide what’s important to keep and what’s not. The solar system, not important. Chemical equations, very important.”   
“I’d say the solar system’s pretty important.”  
Sherlock scoffed. “Planets that are so far away we haven’t been able to travel to them? I don’t think so. They have no impact on me, and are therefore deleted.”  
“That’s ridiculous.”  
“No, what’s ridiculous is that you thought intraneuron was a real thing,” Sherlock smirked at John. John hesitated for a moment before letting a chuckle out on a gush of air.  
“Alright, you great prick, you were right. Happy?”  
“Quite. Seeing as we now have twenty minutes before our next class, care to get a coffee?”  
John let out a sigh. “Why not?”


End file.
